She got the feeling that someone was staring at her. She ignored it and continued to write out her budget. As if writing it out would somehow make her monthly expenses add up to less, add up to an amount closer to what she actually made each month. She bit her lip and kept plugging in the numbers, writing down what they were for and calculating. Again, she felt like she was being watched. She glanced down at her final total, sighed in frustrated despair, then flung away her notebook and pen.
"Screw this!" She announced to the empty room. Then she looked up.
No, not empty. There was a girl standing in the corner, not much older looking than herself. Someone wearing a hell of a lot of pink.
Her first instinct was to scream, or grab for a gun or some other object. But as she stared at the figure, who was not advancing towards her or in any other way seeming to be threatening (other than somehow appearing un- admitted into another person's apartment), she recognized her. Or thought she did. She stared at the woman trying to think of where she knew her from.
Molly Castor's mouth dropped open in shock, while her eyes widened in hopeful awe.
"Kimberly?" She whispered. It couldn't be. But suddenly at that moment, she prayed that it was possible.
The young woman grinned somewhat shyly. "Hi," she answered.